Hauntings
by Cameron90
Summary: The aftermath of Jamie's experiences at Wentworth. What happens when he can't get Black Jack Randall out of his head?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I do not own any Outlander characters!

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Jamie slowly lifted himself off the bed, wincing from the pain of his fresh wounds and bruises. He was thankful for Claire for tending to him with her skilled healing and reassured that her feelings had not changed despite the horrors he had endured. However, the experience had still stained his soul and he could not get the captains voice out of his head, taunting him.

There was still extreme guilt inside him for giving himself to Randall in that manner. And maybe even more guilt that it kept replaying in his dreams, sometimes feeling those rough hands around his waist and waking up in a cold sweat.

"Jamie?" a familiar sweet voice cooed from outside the door, "Are you awake?"

"Aye, come in Claire." Jamie called from the bed. Claire entered carrying a tray of breakfast. "How is my scot feeling today? I brought you some food to keep up your strength. I hope I need not fight with you again to eat."

Jamie shook his head smiling. "Be no point resisting you, Sassenach." He began eating some of the bread on the tray. Looking satisfied she put the tray down on the bedside table. As he ate, she looked over his hand and started to change the dressing on his chest, where Black Jacks brand had been removed the night before. "No infection, minimal swelling. Good…" she murmured to herself. She began added some more cotton to the bandage. Jamie let her do her thing, trying to sit as still as possible as he ate his breakfast.

When she finished she stood in front of him, hands on her side. "Now," she began, trying to formulate the proper wording for what she was trying to ask. "As your nurse it's my duty to treat all your injuries…How is it feeling down there, where you were assaulted."

Jamie coughed on his food and quickly looked away. "I-It be fine. Needn't be worrying 'bout it." Claire sighed, aware of his embarrassment but also concerned. "Is there still pain? Any bleeding? Maybe I should take a look-"

"Aish, no woman! Leave it be!" He pushed her hands aside and turned away.

"Alright, I understand. Well you should try and go for a walk if you're able, get some fresh air. I'll be restocking my herbs today, so send one of the men to fetch me if there's anything you need." She brushed his red locks out of his face and lightly kissed his forehead.

After finishing his breakfast and spending a considerably amount of time trying to get dressed with one hand, he decided to act on Claire's suggestion.

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Walking around the grounds of the ministry, he took in a deep breath enjoying the retreat from the stuffy air of his room. He smiled when he saw one of the horses come up over the hill, sniffing for some more grass to nibble on. Horses were always his solace, often spending time in their company in bouts of weariness since he was a child. The horse's ear pricked up as Jamie approached, but he did not turn his attention away from the sweet grass. Stroking his shiny coat and gently speaking Gaelic to the beast, Jamie started to forgot about the horrors of the prison.

"Oh, Mr. Fraser-" a voice spoke behind him. Jamie turned to see Father Campbell walking towards him, one of the young priests who had assisted Claire during his healing. "I didn' expect you to be up n' about so soon, considerin'..." he trailed off, Jamie turned his attention back to the horse to hide his embarrassment. Father Campbell cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

"Beggin' your pardon, sir." Jamie waved a hand, trying to appear casual and end the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Do ye ride, Father?" he asked with a smile. The priest approached the horse, who nickered in return when he stroked its mane, obviously enjoying all the attention.

"Not in quite awhile, I'm afraid. When I was a boy I did enjoy it. It's a treat to have your animals here, they're such calming creatures to be around." Jamie nodded in agreement. There was silence for a while between them. The horse, either bored or looking for more grass to eat, walked down the hill and away from the two men. Jamie let out a breath as he surveyed the landscape.

"Mr. Fraser, may I offer my advice as a man of God?" Mr. Campbell said suddenly. Jamie looked over eyebrow arched. As much as he considered himself close to God and his religion, he was not in a particular mood for a sermon. But to not appear rude, he conceded to hear him out.

"I advise you to go to confessional, if not here, then at the nearest church. The priest can make clear to you why God chose such a fate upon you and how you can absolve yourself of your sin."

Jamie swallowed. _How did he know the details of his assault, that he had in the given himself fully to Randall? Did he overhear his conversation with Claire, or had she told him?_ He heard the sounds in his head, the moaning sounds he had made in that prison, replaying in his head like some sick nightmare. He felt the bile coming up his throat and swallowed hard to keep in down.

"Excuse me, Father. Perhaps I best go back to resting now." He started walking down toward the building.

"Oh yes of course. Are you sure you don't need any help? You're looking quite pale." he called to Jamie. But he was almost halfway there and didn't turn back.

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He felt hot breath in his ear and his skin pricked with goose flesh. He wanted to pull his neck away as it was scratched by the stubble of the captains beard. _How long had this been going on? Did Randall have any slight of a beard when he first came to visit his cell? Is this his fate, to be trapped here for eternity?_

 _..._

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Hello everyone! This is my first outlander story and I love the show and the books! I will be honest and say I'm not concerned about historical accuracies and such. I'm writing this for fun. If you like Outlander and BL I hope you enjoy J


	2. Chapter 2

"I want to hear you scream, Fraser!" Black Jack whispered in his ear. His words were like venom, stinging and spreading throughout his body. He opened an eye slightly, immediately feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. He hadn't eaten in days and had lost a lot of blood from the wound still gaping in his hand where the nail had been removed. He thought of how Claire had kept going on about _germs_ , bugs so tiny that nobody could see them but they thrived in fifth and could disease the flesh. He wondered how long it would take, for a wound infested with these creatures to take one's life. It felt like the only option of escape from Wentworth and his captor.

Getting no reply from the weak limp body in front of him, Randall's temper rose. He yanked Jamie's head back by his hair so that their mouths met and kissed him hard. Still no response. In frustration, he pushed Jamie's head away and his body rolled forward and off the cot. Randall got off the bed and walked towards the other side of the room, where some ale and provisions awaited him.

"You're not dead yet, no use in pretending." He remarked through a mouthful of bread. After taking a swig of the amber liquid and wiping his brow of sweat, he crouched down towards Jamie's body and began to stroke his hair.

"I will break you." his hand moved from his hair to his upper body, stroking the strong muscles of his arms and chest. "One way or another…" his finger circled a dark nipple.

"Mmph-"

"Oh, he lives! A relief, it's no fun in spending time with a dead man." Jamie felt a finger trace his abdomen, down the crevice of his hips and towards his nether regions. Stifling a cry of protest, he let out a quick breath and shut his eyes tight. Randall's grip on him tightened for a moment and Jamie flinched. There was silence for a moment, until he let go and heard felt the captain leave his side. _Thank ye, God. Perhaps he's given up finally,_ Jamie thought to himself. He slowly turned over to glance at what the redcoat was doing, and saw him putting on his breeches. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"Guard!" he jolted from the sudden yell from Randall. Footsteps echoed through the corridor of a man coming towards them at a quick pace, with the faint sound of keys jingling with each step. The guard was no more than a boy, and a frightened one at that. His eyes flickered at the state of the prisoner, eyes swollen, his hand and forearm covered in fresh blood, either dirt or bruises covering his naked body and a musky scent in the air of sweat and other bodily fluids. The guard quickly averted his gaze back to his captain.

"Y-yes, sir. At your service, sir." He stammered.

Randall cleared his throat and replied calmly, "My interrogations with the prisoner have failed, I have not been able to extract more information about his brood of traitors." Jamie started to get up, preparing himself to be sent to the gallows.

"Send 20 of our men to collect Mrs. Fraser and whomever she may be with. Justice for their crimes toward the crown must be dealt with." Jamie shot up hearing his, seeing white stars before his eyes when he did. He grabbed the edge of the cot for support, trying to stand.

"R-Randall-"his voice was hoarse and barely auditable. He swallowed hard and licked his dry lips. "We had n' agreement!"

"Leave us a moment." He muttered to the guard. Jamie heard the door swing closed and lock. There were a few moments of silence and Jamie kept a hard gaze on his captor.

"Are you suggesting I have broken said agreement?" he chuckled to himself and took another sip of ale. "You are mistaken, sir. It is you who have not kept our deal." Jamie could feel the blood, or what was left of it, rise to his face in anger. If he had the energy, he would attack this brute like a wild beast. Had the past hours, days, weeks, he wasn't sure, mean nothing?

"What are ye ramblin' about? I-" he winced, noticing he has absentmindedly tried to use his injured hand, "I have given ye what ye asked for, I have not fought ye." He watched as Randall walked towards him, cup in hand. Linking his arm around Jamie's, he pulled him up on the bed and offered him the cup. Jamie twitched and raised an eyebrow. _Was it some kind of trick?_

"Take it." He demanded. Jamie hesitated, but his thirst was overwhelming. Whatever his plan, it couldn't be worse then what had already happened. He grabbed the cup and drank quickly, coughing and sputtering when he came for air. Finally the captain spoke.

"The agreement was for you to give yourself to me fully-", he began. "Aye I ken, and I have!" Jamie blurted out, I little more forcefully then he liked. He was enjoying the momentary refrain from violence. "We agreed you wouldn't resist, but yet you have still not given yourself fully. I have given you time to adjust, using force and gentleness. My patience now has grown weary." He said coldly. Grabbing the cup away, he started up toward the door of the cell. "Pray for your wife on your last night alive, Fraser. God knows, she will need it."

Jamie's eyes widened in panic, "No!" he cried leaping off the cot and crawling towards Black Jack. Eyes searching around the room wildly, like the answer may be written somewhere, he finally brought himself to look up to his rival. "P-please, I beg ye, spare her. I'll do anything-" Randall scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"We've already been down this road. How can I trust you." he looked sideward, considering his next move. A smile spread across his lips, and he reached down to untie his breeches. "Prove it, you filthy Scot."

Jamie swallowed, a bead of sweat falling down the side of his face. His thoughts were going round and round his head, trying to figure out if there was another way out of this. He could sense the Captain was getting impatient. There was no choice, he was doing this for Claire. The pants were loose and hanging low, you could see the dark hair poking up from the top. Jamie swallowed and reached out, cursing his hands for shaking so much. They slid down easily, revealing a mound of thick black public hair surrounding a semi-swollen appendage. Randall shuddered has Jamie reached for him again, keeping a steady downcast gaze on the events below. Unsure of what to do next, Jamie looked up at Randall to search his face for some clue. The slightly dishevelled man reached up and pulled the ribbon holding his hair in a ponytail, letting his long black hair fall freely.

"She is dead to you, Fraser" he said, licking his lips sadistically. "I am your Claire, now." He gently pushed the hair out of Jamie's eyes, enjoying the tears that started to well up. Then, with the same hand, he pulled Jamie unresisting towards him in welcome ecstasy.

He awoke with a start, noticeable drenched with a cold sweat. He turned, sitting on the edge and rubbed his head and trying to calm his nerves. _Get outta my head, dammit!_

"Jamie, are you alright?" cooed a sleepy voice behind him.

"I'm fine Sassenach. Go ye back to bed, now."

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Yay smut! ish...not sure how far this will go. ta ta for now


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